Chapter 17 - REED’S LAST ESCAPEReed had never liked snow.
It made the world look clean when it was not.
He sat in the back of a black SUV speeding toward the Canadian border, wrists free, jaw bruised, Alistair beside him. Two armed men sat in front. The heater blew warm air, but Reed’s fingers remained cold.
“You should have killed Maren at the house,” Reed said.
Alistair looked out the window.
“You should have.”
Reed’s mouth tightened.
They had been circling that blame for hours.
The old man had lost his empire in one vault opening. Reed had lost his wife, reputation, money, and freedom. Now both men were reduced to a frozen road and a private plane waiting under a false registration.
Alistair still looked calm.
That enraged Reed.
“You’re finished,” Reed said.
Alistair smiled faintly.
“My dear boy, finished is a word for people with one life.”
Reed stared.
Alistair continued. “I have companies buried under foundations, charities, ministries, universities. Whitaker was a valuable artery, not the heart.”
“Then why run?”
“Because even kings step aside when peasants light torches.”
Reed looked at his reflection in the window.
He barely recognized himself.
The handsome devoted husband was gone.
The loyal executive was gone.
The lover Celeste believed in was gone.
All that remained was appetite.
“What happens to me?” he asked.
Alistair’s silence answered.
Reed laughed.
“There it is.”
The old man did not look at him.
“You became inconvenient.”
Reed leaned back.
“And yet you kept me alive.”
“For now.”
The SUV passed a sign for a rural airfield.
Twenty minutes.
Maybe less.
Reed began calculating.
He knew Alistair would kill him eventually. A confession signed under pressure. A tragic suicide abroad. A boating accident. Something elegant enough for headlines to get bored quickly.
Reed needed leverage.
His hand moved subtly toward his coat pocket.
Empty.
Of course.
Alistair said, “Looking for this?”
He held up Reed’s phone.
Reed’s jaw tightened.
“You are predictable when frightened.”
Before Reed could answer, the lead SUV ahead of them exploded.
The blast lit the snowy road orange.
Their driver shouted and swerved. The SUV spun across ice, slammed into a ditch, and threw Reed against the door.
For three seconds, the world became glass and pain.
Then silence.
Reed lifted his head.
Smoke filled the vehicle.
One guard was unconscious. The other cursed, reaching for his weapon. Alistair’s forehead bled, but his eyes were open.
Outside, gunfire cracked.
Not police.
Different rhythm.
Professional.
Alistair smiled through the blood.
“Well,” he murmured. “That is unexpected.”
The rear door ripped open.
A masked man aimed inside.
Alistair’s remaining guard shot him twice.
Reed moved.
Not heroically.
Not bravely.
Like a rat finding a gap.
He grabbed the fallen guard’s gun, kicked the opposite door open, and crawled into snow.
Behind him, Alistair shouted his name.
Reed ran.
Branches tore at his coat. His lungs burned. The gun felt heavy in his hand.
He did not know who attacked them.
Maren?
Federal agents?
Another enemy?
It did not matter.
Everyone wanted him contained.
Reed wanted air.
He stumbled through the tree line and found a narrow service road. Lights glowed in the distance.
The airfield.
He moved toward it.
Then a voice called from behind him.
“Reed.”
He froze.
Celeste stood between the trees, wrapped in a dark coat, face pale against the snow.
For one insane moment, he thought she was alone.
Then he saw the red dot on his chest.
Sniper.
Reed slowly lifted his hands.
Celeste walked closer.
“You look awful,” she said.
Reed laughed breathlessly.
“Is this your revenge?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
Celeste’s eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall.
“To see if I still believed you.”
He smiled softly, slipping into the old voice.
“Celeste, listen to me. Alistair forced my hand. I was trying to protect you.”
She looked at him for a long second.
Then she shook her head.
“You always pause before the word protect.”
His smile faded.
“It gives you time to decide what the lie should cost.”
Reed’s eyes hardened.
“You think Maren will forgive you? She won’t. You betrayed her. You helped me. Whatever happens to me, you are still what you are.”
Celeste flinched.
Then she nodded.
“Yes.”
Reed blinked.
She continued. “But for the first time in my life, I am not asking someone else to tell me what that means.”
Behind Reed, Gabriel emerged from the trees with federal agents.
Reed turned, panicked, and raised the gun.
A shot cracked.
Not from Reed.
The gun flew from his hand, and he screamed as blood spread across his sleeve.
Gabriel lowered his weapon.
“Next one goes somewhere worse.”
Reed collapsed to his knees.
Federal agents swarmed him.
As they cuffed him, he looked up at Celeste with pure hatred.
“You stupid girl.”
Celeste stepped closer.
Snow fell between them.
“No,” she said softly. “Just late.”
Reed was dragged away shouting Maren’s name.
At the edge of the airfield, Alistair was captured alive.
Barely.
The attackers who had hit his convoy vanished before federal units secured the site.
That troubled Maren when Gabriel called with the update from the retreat.
“Not our people?” she asked.
“No,” Gabriel said. “Not federal either.”
“Then who?”
“We don’t know.”
Maren looked at Vivian, Helena, and Nora inside the underground lab where alarms still flashed.
Another player.
Again.
Helena had successfully transmitted the research files to regulators and independent medical ethics boards. The prototype data was now too public to bury quietly.
But the physical treatment remained limited.
Three vials.
One chance to prove it worked.
Maren held the silver case on her lap.
Celeste returned with Gabriel two hours later.
She entered the lab covered in snow, eyes red, shoulders shaking from cold or shock.
Maren looked at her.
“Did you see him?”
Celeste nodded.
“Did he tell the truth?”
Celeste laughed softly.
“No.”
“Good.”
Celeste looked confused.
Maren’s voice was quiet.
“If Reed ever told the truth easily, I’d wonder what trap came with it.”
Celeste almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Helena prepared the authentication system.
Two hand scanners.
Two blood samples.
Two voice confirmations.
Maren and Celeste sat side by side.
Twin sisters born together, divided by greed, reunited by catastrophe.
Helena looked at them.
“Once I begin, the system will either unlock the full protocol or destroy the remaining protected sequence.”
Maren looked at Celeste.
Celeste whispered, “Your choice.”
Maren corrected her.
“Our choice.”
Celeste’s face crumpled.
They placed their hands on the scanners.
Helena drew two drops of blood.
The system hummed.
VOICE CONFIRMATION REQUIRED.
Maren leaned toward the microphone.
“Maren Whitaker.”
Celeste swallowed.
“Celeste Whitaker.”
The system processed.
Then a new prompt appeared.
RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMATION REQUIRED.
The sisters stared.
Vivian covered her mouth.
Maren felt something break open inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
Something older.
Something stolen.
She looked at Celeste.
Celeste was crying.
Maren reached across the small space between them.
After a long hesitation, Celeste took her hand.
Together, they answered.
“Sisters.”
May you like
The screen turned white.
ACCESS GRANTED.
